


Latex knitting

by mariesondetre



Category: Supernatural RPF
Genre: Established Relationship, Fluff and Smut, Frottage, Hand Jobs, Knitting, Latex disco suit, Lazy Sex, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-01-01
Updated: 2017-01-01
Packaged: 2018-09-14 00:24:57
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,064
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9148615
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/mariesondetre/pseuds/mariesondetre
Summary: Sorry for the stupid title. Just something fluffy and sexy featuring the latex disco suit and Misha's knitting (hope it's not too misleading).





	

**Author's Note:**

> Sorry for the stupid title. Just something fluffy and sexy featuring the latex disco suit and Misha's knitting (hope it's not too misleading).

The day of filming has been long, cold and exhausting. It's already 10 pm and Jensen has just been released, but Misha has to stay a bit longer. Before going back to the wardrobe trailer to change out of Dean's clothes, Jensen catches Misha alone for a minute.

“Hey Mish, are you going to sleep in your trailer tonight? I was thinking about staying, as we have to start early tomorrow.”

Misha smiles. “You don't have to look for excuses to ask if you can sleep with me, Jen. But yes, I think it's more reasonable to stay at the trailer. I'm already beat, and I still have maybe an hour here before they let me go.”

“I'll wait for you there, then,” Jensen says, patting the pocket where he carries his and Misha's trailers keys.

“Make yourself comfortable. And push the heating a little! I'm freezing!” Misha adds as Jensen walks away with a little wave.

*

When Misha enters his trailer, he finds Jensen lying in the couch, surfing channels on the TV without really paying attention. It's been an hour and a half since he came back, and he's just been trying to not fall asleep before Misha managed to get away.

“Sorry, Jen, I had to shower at wardrobe; I sweat like a pig in this latex suit.”

“I like when you talk sexy to me,” Jensen jokes.

“Shut up.”

Suddenly, Misha notices his knitting lying in the reclining chair; it's dark on black, maybe Jensen hasn't noticed. He goes to it casually – he hopes –, takes it and throws it into the nearest cabinet.

“What are you knitting?” _Damnit._

“Nothing,” he says with his back turned. Jensen chuckles.

“You're not ashamed of it, are you?”

Misha turns a indignant face.

“Of course not! Knitting is a calming, zen-like hobby. I'll teach you if you want.”

Jensen ignores this, going back to his previous interest. “So, what is it?”

“Nothing,” Misha repeats, too tired to think about a convincing lie. He escapes in the small bathroom to brush his teeth, leaving the door open. But Jensen knows him too well.

“Oh! Is it for me? Is it my Christmas present?”

Misha gives up the hope of keeping it a secret.

“Huh, not a chance. You'll be lucky if it's finished for your birthday. So you have all the time to forget everything about it, okay?”

Jensen's face appears in the door frame, grinning from ear to ear.

“Okay, okay. Can't wait though.”

Then Misha hears his footsteps draw away, and his voice calling from the tiny bedroom.

“Come to bed, Mish.”

All the lights are already off in the trailer, apart from the bedside lamp on Misha's side. Jensen is lying in bed, shirtless for what Misha can see, and he doesn't deny himself the pleasure of looking at the expanse of skin displayed, while he loses his sweatpants and socks and flops onto the bed. He lies on his back, feeling his muscles relax and the tensions starting to ebb away. It's been a long day.

Jensen turns on his side and scoots closer, sliding a hand under Misha's shirt. Misha savors the warm hand on his belly before turning too, facing Jensen. They look into each other's eyes and close the gap, trading lazy kisses at a somewhat awkward angle, as neither feels like lifting his head up from the pillows. When Jensen's fingers wander under the waistband of his boxers, Misha sighs into his mouth.

“I'd love that, babe, but I can barely keep my eyes open right now... I'm not sure it's worth getting up again to clean up and everything.”

Jensen kisses him again, open-mouthed.

“Let me take care of you for once... you won't have to get up and I promise it'll be even more relaxing than knitting.”

Misha huffs and lets Jensen maneuver him out of his tee-shirt and boxers, kiss his neck, brush the pad of his thumb against a nipple.

“Nothing fancy, then,” he says, and he hums as gentle fingers tease the head of his already hard dick.

“Just a sensible and practical instalment,” Jensen approves. He rumages down the opposite side of the bed and produces a small towel that he spreads out on the bed between them, and a familiar purple bottle of Astroglide. Misha breaks down in laughter.

“You were all equiped and prepared, you little shit!”

Only one corner of Jensen's mouth lifts at that, and he stays focused on the task of spreading lube on his right hand.

“Mmhmh, I knew you'd be tired but still horny, and it's a tough combination for you,” he replies very seriously, even when his eyes are shining mischievously.

Without further ceremony, Jensen takes Misha's dick in his lubed hand and starts stroking him in a steady rhythm, sliding towards him and pressing their bodies flush against each other. Misha hisses but throws both arms around Jensen's neck and holds him close. He pulls his hips against Jensen's, seeking contact there, and Jensen, picking up the cue, aligns their dicks and grabs them both. They thrust into his hand, the moves and their combined scents all so familiar and comforting and arousing at once. Tiny moans escape Misha's throat as Jensen mouths at what he can reach – a meaty shoulder, a biceps linked around his neck. Jensen knew they wouldn't last long, and when he feels Misha's thrusts going erratic, he twists his hand a little at the up-stroke, murmuring encouragements in the warm space between them.

“Come on, babe, I've got you, just let go.”

And with this, Misha's hip stills under his grip and his dick pulses into his palm, as Misha grits his teeth around Jensen's name. A couple more strokes and the feeling of added slippery liquid between his fingers send Jensen over the edge too, and he doesn't hold his moan back, breathing hard in the crook of Misha's neck.

They cling to each other for a minute as they catch their breath, before Jensen gathers the towel between them and wipes the mess on his hand and their bellies. He then throws it on the floor, pulls the duvet upon them both and gathers an already sleepy Misha in his arms.

“So, was it relaxing enough for you, old man?”

“Mmmyeah,” Misha mumbles, not bothering to find a comeback. “'Love you, Jay.”

“Love you too.”

 


End file.
